Page 8 of Sexting My Bratva Boss (Mafia Silver Foxes #1)

Konstantin

I t’s a breezy autumn day, crisp and alive with the leaves chattering in the trees. Audrey is standing under a streetlight when I get out of the car.

The wind lifts her skirt, and she palms it down quickly, a blush on her cheeks.

Good. That means she did what I told her to do.

The thought that she’s standing there without panties on, waiting for me, the cool air playing over her flesh… it’s all I can do not to pick her up, carry her up to her little apartment, and fuck her until she’s screaming my name.

Instead, I get close—so close I can feel the heat of her body, smell the scent of her freshly washed hair—and slip a cell phone into her hand.

“This is yours.”

She turns it over in her palm, looking at it quizzically. “Um, thank you, but I already have a phone?—”

Grabbing her wrist with one hand, I deftly tap the screen with the other. Her pulse races under my thumb. I pull the contacts up. There’s only one entry.

“This is my personal number. Not through the operator, not through the emergency line— my number.”

Audrey looks up at me with wide eyes, comprehension dawning.

“ It will be the only number in this phone. Do you understand?”

She nods, fingers closing around the brand new, sleek phone as she holds it tightly to her chest.

Turning, I start for the Alfa Romeo. Audrey takes a hesitant step behind me.

“Konstantin?”

The sound of my name on her lips sends a tremor through my muscles, like a small earthquake. I’m momentarily caught off guard by just how easily this woman can unground me. I’ve fought men with my bare hands, killed with knives and guns, woken from a coma, survived starving on the streets.

And I’d do it all again to fall at her feet.

The feeling is overwhelming, and I can’t let her see it—how much control she has just by saying my name.

So, I wait.

She bites her lip in the silence, then asks, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Get in the car.”

Twenty minutes later, thanks to a lack of traffic, I park the purring car outside of a newly-built house. I chose it myself out of our catalog, holding back from buying her the biggest and most ostentatious house I could offer.

I don’t know Audrey well—yet—but I can tell by her style that more isn’t necessarily better, for her. Just that one evening in her apartment, even with my focus on her pain and fear, I gathered enough to know that she likes comfort.

Closeness.

Two cars pull up down the street behind us. I don’t need to explain to Audrey who they are; the men watch as I get out of the Alfa. Two follow, standing a respectable distance away in the cover of Japanese maples.

The house is a 1930s style country cape, painted slate blue with white accents. The transom door is arched, the windows large and diamond paned, looking out onto a yard that I paid an abhorrent amount to make look lush and old-growth.

When Audrey takes my hand and steps out of the car, it’s easy to see that she already loves it.

Her features shift from amazement to excitement and then, unexpectedly, disappointment.

“You don’t like it?”

Her pretty eyes flick my way, then take in the little yard, the rock driveway, the hidden turret on the side of the house where I imagine she’ll soak in sunlight while growing our child. Protected; hidden; happy.

“No, I… I love it. It’s beautiful.”

Taking her hand, I practically drag her up the walkway and to the door.

The men follow, still at a distance. The key is styled to look antique, but there’s a lock pad too, an extra measure of security.

Aside from the countless cameras on the property and the high-end alarm system that the team installed yesterday morning.

I knew she’d say yes.

Even before that call this morning.

“Then why do you have that look on your face?” I ask her once we step inside, tipping her chin upward, studying her thick lashes and full lips. They’re as enticing as her curves as I ghost my hand over her hips.

But there will be time for that later. Right now, eyes narrowed, I need to know why she looks so forlorn.

There’s a flash of fear in her eyes. Her lips purse: a telltale sign that she doesn’t want to admit to something.

“Audrey,” I murmur in a low warning, pulling her close by her wrist. “I will only say this once: You do not want to lie to me. When I ask you a question, I expect the truth. Answer me.”

Her eyes dart away. They sweep across the furnishings, perfectly curated to fit the home: a narrow console table with a vase of out-of-season hydrangeas, an ornate coat rack, beautiful oak detailing around the door interior.

“It’s gorgeous. It’s exactly what I’d want for myself, but it’s not mine, is it?”

Pressing the key into her palm, I answer, “It is. This is your home, Audrey.”

Her laugh is throaty, but there’s hurt in it too. “Not really though Konstantin. Nothing is mine that I don’t earn. I didn’t earn this.”

Gripping her hips tightly, I lean in, tempted to steal a kiss right here.

“Oh, but you will earn it, Audrey. If you really want it, you’ll earn it.”

A flush crawls prettily up her neck from the bow tied at her throat. Reaching up, I pull one end and watch it unravel, exposing her collarbones. When I lean in I can smell her scent: that vanilla citrus, a warmth that draws me like a moth to a flame.

“As long as you carry our child, this will be your home. This is where you’ll be safe.”

When I pull away, there’s a different look in her eyes. Feverish and bright. She searches my face, swaying forward unsteadily, and I think for a moment that she might be the one who steals a kiss.

Then she steps back, looking shyly down.

“Can I see the rest?”

With a gesture, I release her. Audrey is tentative at first, then more exploratory as she roams the little halls. The kitchen, then the living room, and entrance to the turret room. On the other side of the house, a dining area and a wood-paneled, walk-in pantry.

I follow her upstairs, tempted to reach out and grip the backs of her thighs with my hands.

To cup her ass, take her there on the stairs; the way her skirt bounces with each step is a tease, especially knowing that were I to reach under, find my way up her inner thigh, there’d be nothing to stop me from stroking her warm, needy pussy.

Barefoot since the foyer, Audrey wanders into a full bathroom with a clawfoot tub, the second floor of the turret room—with a seating area that looks down to the first floor, letting light spill in from the wall of windows—and two bedrooms. One is minimally furnished.

I don’t want her inviting just anyone to this house, but I’ll explain that later.

Or Lev can. I have other things to take care of first.

She passes a window, nearing the master bedroom. Pausing, I gesture to the men outside. They confer, then move back toward their cars.

“Tell me,” I murmur, following her into the bedroom. “Did you follow my instructions?”

She stands on a plush carpet, toes sinking into it, looking vulnerable in the dying light and the large room. The bed is a king, doused in elegant beige and blue bedding with antique rose patterns.

Audrey’s hands fist in her skirt.

I stalk toward her, satisfied at the sight of the undone bow at her neck, her tousled hair, the flush on her cheeks.

“Show me.”

She licks her lips, moving to take a step forward.

“No. Pull your skirt up. Slowly. And show me that pretty pussy, malen'kiy volk .”

The heavy, luxurious fabric rises as she inches it up her legs. She gets to mid-thigh and my mouth waters at the sight that I’ve only fantasized about. Already my cock is throbbing with interest.

There.

That’s mine.

I’ve had her in my office, lapping at her folds, but in the golden light spilling through the window I can see every inch of her. She’s wet, pink, and inviting.

“Stay like that,” I command.

Audrey obeys. She’s straining to breathe, to get a rhythm as I move toward her, shoes echoing on the hardwood floor. I kick them off at the edge of the carpet and circle her, slowly, taking in her thick legs and round, exposed ass.

When I come near, she makes a sound close to a whimper and a gasp. My hands rest on her hips, then slip forward, slowly, caressing.

“Please,” she whispers.

My fingers hover over her heat. It’s taking everything in me to hold back, to tease her like this.

“What do you want, little wolf?”

Audrey leans back, her ass tucked up against me, making my dick throb more insistently. It wants out; it wants to claim what’s ours.

“I… I want you to touch me. Please.”

“Say my name.”

I’m almost ashamed to ask it of her, but I put force behind the words. I want to feel control. I want her to obey. And I want to make sure she knows just who is making her tremble tonight.

“Please touch me, Konstantin.” It comes out as a breathy request, and I can’t hold back anymore. Burying my face in her neck, sucking and biting the delicate skin there, I delve two fingers into her slick and come back to circle her clit.

She’s taut as a bow string, back arching and hands clenched in the skirt as she holds it up and lets me ruin her.

“Like this?” I ask, plunging into her entrance so abruptly that she cries out. “Is this what you want?”

Audrey whines, trying to find purchase on the carpet as she instinctually bends at the hips, pressing herself back on my erection. I grip her hip with my free hand, grinding against her ass.

It doesn’t take much to bring her to the edge but, like that day in the office, I don’t let her come. Instead, I spin her around, the surprise of the movement making her drop her skirt.

“Take it off.”

She quickly undoes the zipper, stumbling as I stalk toward her, guiding her to the bed.

This, all this, is for her.

And tonight, I’ll finally claim her as mine.

I’ll fuck her into this bed until she’s carrying my child.

“This, too,” I murmur, grazing the undone tie of the bow. There’s barely any space between us. Audrey crosses her arms, lifts the bottom of the shirt, and it slides off, mussing her hair even more.

She’s in nothing but a bra.

“How do you want to…?” she asks breathlessly, her eyes dragging down to my trousers, where my arousal is apparent. “I can turn around, or help you get close, or…”

“No.”

Holding her by the hips, I push her onto the bed, hefting her voluptuous body further up and spreading her knees apart.

“You’re already wet.”

She inhales sharply at the satisfied grin on my face.

“I want you to stay just like this. And wait for me.”

Slowly, I undo my shirt button by button, shucking it off. The undershirt beneath is clean, white, and tucked into my trousers. Audrey licks her lips at the sound of my belt coming undone, and I know she’s thinking of that day in my office. I’ve been thinking of it, too.

“This isn’t going to be clinical,” I warn. “I’m not going to be gentle with you.”

Audrey nods, gripping the thick duvet, knees still spread and pussy still glistening. I take my time, removing my trousers and folding them, laying them on the bed. Doing the same with my boxers.

Letting her get an eyeful of just how badly I want her.

I’m already rock hard when I kneel on the bed with one knee, fisting myself and dragging a slow, teasing stroke to the tip. A bead of precum leaks out and Audrey sits up on her elbows, eyes locked on to my cock.

“Are we alone?” she asks nervously, eyes darting to the open door.

I grab her ankle, dragging her toward me, and she lets out a surprised yelp.

“We are. But it doesn’t matter. They’ll hear you screaming for me from the cars.”

Holding her hips down with one hand, I guide my cock to her clit, dragging over it slowly. Over and over. Until she’s twitching under me, a damp spot on the duvet.

I can tell she’s resisting the pleasure by how she bites her lip. I’ll break her. I’ll have her begging for me.

“Don’t move,” I tell her, holding her thighs as far apart as possible and lining myself up at her entrance. I watch my cock press into her, stretching her swollen pussy, filling her the way I’ve always imagined. Audrey lets out a whimper, her hips shifting.

“ Don’t move. ”

Stopping midway, I reach up her body, wrapping my hand around her throat. Audrey tips her head back obediently. “You don’t move until I tell you to, understand? You’re going to wait while I fuck you, you’re going to wait until I tell you that you can come all over my cock.”

Adjusting her roughly, I try to ignore the abrupt throb of pleasure as I slide deeper into her. Audrey lets out a low moan, throwing her head back, legs spread wide for me.

“Good girl.”

My hips crash into hers, brutally, the sound of slapping flesh obscene in the pristine room. Pulling back, her pussy makes a sucking noise, and I plunge in again, burying myself deep. Holding her against me hard, fucking into her over and over.

Slow.

Deliberate.

“You’re mine.”

She’s panting under me, body trembling with the effort of staying still as I fuck her.

“Say it, malen'kiy volk. ”

“I—I’m yours!”

“Say my name.”

“Konstantin. I’m yours Konstantin.”

As a reward, I graze my thumb over her clit. I can feel myself getting closer, getting lost in the warm, sopping sensation of her pussy surrounding me. Audrey’s hips jerk. She can’t help it, but I give her ass a light slap as a reminder of who is in charge.

Her moans get higher in pitch. She’s close, so I bury myself in her and fuck her quickly, shallow, feeling my cock bottom out as her hips match my rhythm. Putting my other knee on the bed, I lean over her, fingers still playing her clit.

“You’ll tell me,” I grunt, fucking her harder. “I know you’ve been lying to me, Audrey, and I’ll find out the truth. You’ll tell me who put you up to stealing the money. You’ll tell me why. And then you’ll let me fuck you like this, over and over, because you’re mine.”

Her pussy clenches around me as she orgasms, a shudder going through her whole body. Finally, I lose myself in the sensation of her taking me, every inch of me. I know she’ll be bruised and sore later, and it makes this even more delicious.

As her hips twitch under me, I give in to the ever-tightening heat and fill her with my seed. Slowing, I fuck into her over and over. Making sure to bury it deep. To give her every last drop.

To begin my legacy with her beneath me.